


Something to remember you by

by ThatsrightZoeyeyye



Category: Firebringer - Team StarKid
Genre: (just for the flashbacks but well it counts), Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Keepsakes, they're in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:55:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22770580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatsrightZoeyeyye/pseuds/ThatsrightZoeyeyye
Summary: "There you go," Zazzalil had beamed proudly, holding the newly carved watch, "now you'll have something to remember me by.""I'm not going to forget you just because we're moving to different sides of the country," Jemilla had scoffed, "you seem to forget about the wonders of technology."
Relationships: Jemilla/Zazzalil (Firebringer)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 50





	Something to remember you by

**Author's Note:**

  * For [starkid writes discord](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=starkid+writes+discord).



> prompts : "high school" and "keepsakes" for the starkid writes discord server

Jemilla waved goodbye to her parents, forcing a smile just a little longer, trying to get her eyes to shine just a little longer, keeping her head high just a little longer, waving her hand excitedly just a little longer.

Then their car finally turned around the corner, and she let her smile fall, let her eyelids fall, let her shoulders fall, let her hand fall. She sighed.

She walked up the stairs, down the corridor, stopped by her door. Her door. The door to her room.

She took her keys from her back pocket, brushed her thumb along the still unfamiliar shape, turned it in the lock. She flinched slightly as it unlocked, the metallic sound echoing along the empty corridor.

She pushed open the door, closed it behind herself, quietly, and turned to her room. Her room. Where she would stay.

She looked at her bed, her desk, her closet, her little kitchen, her little bathroom, her lightbulb, her window. It was all hers.

Back at home, the furniture in her bedroom had belonged to her. Sure, her parents had paid for it, but it was still her room. It felt safe, it felt hers, it felt like home.

Standing in this little room, where she would stay all through her college years, she barely felt at home. She figured it would take more than a few hours of carrying furniture and boxes in for this place to feel like home. Right then, it just felt cold.

She sat on the bed, sighed once more. She could hear laughter echoing from the other end of the corridor. She could hear the wind hitting against her window and curling around the gutters. She could hear the loud ticking of the watch on her wrist, steady, reassuring.

She breathed in, four ticks. Breathed out, five ticks. Repeated it again, closing her eyes. A door slammed shut at the end of the corridor, the laughter faded away.

Jemilla delicately removed her watch, brought it closer to her face, inspecting it at the light of the sun. She breathed in, four ticks. Breathed out, five ticks. Closed her eyes again, remembered.

-

She had been sitting at the end of some corridor, in high school, trying to control her breathing, struggling to stay silent, desperate not to alert a teacher, to bring attention to herself.

There had been Zazzalil's hand on her arm, reassuring, grounding, the only thing keeping her from losing her grip on reality.

Then Zazzalil's hand had moved away and Jemilla had whimpered, already feeling the darkness invade her mind. She knew she was safe, rationally, but her vision was blurry and her mind running and twisting a million thoughts she couldn't make sense of.

She had tried to breathe in correctly, like she'd been taught, in and out, in and out again, but her throat was closed and her chest felt heavy and her lungs wouldn't answer her command. It was frustrating and terrifying, and she wished she weren't used to it.

Zazzalil's hand had brushed her cheek and Jemilla had nestled into it, desperate for the comfort and warmth of her girlfriend's touch.

"Hey, J-Mills?" Zazzalil's voice had called, soft and full of worry, so unlike the way she was in front of everyone. Everyone who wasn't Jemilla.

"Why don't we try something?" she had whispered.

Over the years of their friendship, Jemilla had heard that sentence many times. None of Zazzalil's ideas had ever worked for her, but she appreciated the effort.

"You could try to follow a breathing count," Zazzalil had suggested, "like three in, two out, or whatever works for you. Some people say it works"

Many people said many things worked, and Jemilla wished it could work for her too. Nothing ever did.

Zazzalil's hand was on her cheeks, and Jemilla guessed it did help. Warm and soft. There. With her. Zazzalil's watch was on her wrist and so close to Jemilla's ear, the ticking loud, invading her mind.

"Let's try four in, five out," Zazzalil had continued, "you don't have to get it right away, just try, okay?"

Jemilla had tried to concentrate on her girlfriend's voice, tried to control her breathing.

"One, two, three, four" Zazzalil had whispered, and each of her words had been punctuated by a tick of her watch.

"Now out"

Jemilla had closed her eyes a little tighter, desperate for pressure. Zazzalil's thumb had brushed along her cheek, strong and slow, pushing in the flesh. She knew it helped. Jemilla had concentrated on the touch, the roughness that made it real.

"One, two, three four, five"

And once more, the watch had followed.

Zazzalil had kept counting. The watch had kept ticking. Jemilla's breath had settled, slowly. She had breathed in, four ticks. Breathed out, five ticks.

She had opened her eyes, and Zazzalil had smiled a little.

"Thank you," Jemilla had whispered, and Zazzalil had brushed a small kiss on her forehead.

"Of course, babe," she had murmured, "I love you."

Jemilla had caught Zazzalil's lips in a kiss, for just a second.

"We should probably go back to class," she had mumbled, and Zazzalil had groaned.

-

Jemilla turned the watch around in her hands, brushed a finger along the letters they had carved in the metal.

"J + Z"

They had known it was cliché. It hadn't stopped them.

-

"There you go," Zazzalil had beamed proudly, holding the newly carved watch, "now you'll have something to remember me by."

"I'm not going to forget you just because we're moving to different sides of the country," Jemilla had scoffed, "you seem to forget about the wonders of technology."

Zazzalil had laughed, a bright and bubbly sound, and Jemilla had kissed her, just because she could.

She'd taken the watch and settled it around her wrist. The ticking was still loud, grounding. It felt safe.

Jemilla had removed her necklace and handed it to Zazzalil. It had hung between them for a few seconds, the silver pendant swaying slightly.

"You sure about this?" Zazzalil had asked, "your godmother gave it to you for your sixteenth birthday, it's big."

"You gave me the watch your mother bought with her first paycheck, it's big too," Jemilla had countered, "besides, I love you."

Zazzalil had smiled, grabbed the necklace and settled it around her neck.

"It looks good on you," Jemilla had said. Zazzalil had smiled brighter.

-

Jemilla settled the watch back on her wrist. The loud ticking still filled the room, keeping the emptiness of silence at bay.

Next to her, the screen of her phone lit up, with a picture of Zazzalil. An incoming call.

"Good evening, J-Mills," Zazzalil's voice rung out, "how's your humble abode?"

"Humble," Jemilla answered, her eyes trailing along the angles of the old yellow wallpaper.

"At least it's yours," Zazzalil exclaimed, "now you get to plan your meals based on nutritional value in your bullet journal without bullying your mom like you always dreamed."

"I wish you were here with me," Jemilla murmured, "I miss you."

"Not to worry," Zazzalil smiled, "I do a lot of exercise, I can eat whatever I want. I'll survive without your meals schedule."

Jemilla let out a little laugh. She loved her girlfriend.

"I met my new roommate," Zazzalil said, "her name is Keeri, she seems pretty nice. She likes my necklace. I showed her pictures of you, she agrees that you are very pretty."

"Well," Jemilla chuckled, "you have to be pretty if you want to become president of the world."

"The prettiest," Zazzalil nodded, "which is why you have all your chances."

"The president of the world and the engineer who will save the planet," Jemilla hummed, "we make a fine team."

"Hell yeah," Zazzalil laughed, "we're going to save the world."

They laughed again.

When Jemilla went to bed that night, in a cold, unfamiliar bed, she was smiling, holding her watch close to her chest.

**Author's Note:**

> i wanted to post this yesterday but i accidentally deleted everything when i tried to copy paste it in ao3 sooo i had to rewrite it all. writing is hard. please tell me if i was worth rewriting


End file.
